Letters to Oliver: I Wish I Had Never Left
by Sentimentalthoughts
Summary: Higher Ground left me wishing to hear the letters from Shane to Oliver. Since we didn't get that privilege, I decided to try to write a few. Again, it is the incredible skill of Martha Williamson and the talent of actors who have bring these characters to life and to our imaginations.
1. Chapter 1: Letter

March 5

Dear Oliver,

Our plane just landed and I've been shown to my quarters. I have 30 minutes before I have to report. I have already surrendered my laptop and cell. I need my phone. I need to call you. I need to tell you that I wish I had never left.

I wish our date had never been interrupted. I wish we had finished our walk. Do you know how wonderful it was when I took your arm and you reached across and held my hand? I wish we sat in our squeaky porch swing – laughing and talking. I wish you had kissed me again.

I must confess. I bought your favorite coffee and had it ready to brew when we returned from dinner - if you came in – if you wanted a cup of coffee. There are two Yoo-hoo's in the refrigerator. Let me be clear, I didn't buy them for me. They were there just in case you wanted one. As many ways that I thought our evening might end, it certainly wasn't with me flying off to an undisclosed location.

As the long hours passed inflight, all I could think of was that with each passing hour76 I was being taken further and further away from Denver, from the DLO, from you. I once told you that I have no plans on leaving. I certainly didn't plan on this. I hope you know that I will come home as soon as I can. Home, my dear gentleman, my very best date – home has become wherever you are.

They are calling for me.

With my heart full of regret for leaving,

Shane


	2. Chapter 2: Fear of Failure

March 12

Dear Oliver

A week has past since I wrote to you. I was trying to gain some perspective before I wrote you again. Gaining perspective - that is a work in progress. This week we were fully briefed, read-in, and divided into teams. We have been appointed, assigned, and scheduled. Most of us work 12 - 16 hour days. The people I work with are focused and unwavering. They assume if you take a seat at this table that you are up to the task - that you are part of the solution - that you can do what you were brought her to do.

I, on the other hand, am tired and overwhelmed. I am afraid. I am afraid that I can't do what they need me to do. What if I miss something? What if I misinterpret data? What if I fail? The more afraid of failure I become, the more nervous I become, and the more clouded my thoughts seem to be. What if I can't do this – this thing that matters to so many people?

I was trying to remember a verse that I heard you say. "God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of love and of a sound mind." I try to imagine you saying that to me. I can see your face, the calm assurance in your eyes. Then you lean in a little, with one eyebrow slightly raised, you smile, and you whisper this verse to me. I keep playing this scene over and over again in my mind. I take a deep breath, and I go back to work.

Is it ridiculous to imagine you here, reassuring me? Is it silly to write letters that I cannot mail? You don't seem as far away when I write, especially because I am writing with your pen.

Yes, I have your grandfather's pen with me. I have confession to make. I intentionally brought it. I was packing and realized that I still had it in my pocket. In the confusion of the moment I forgot to return it. I don't believe that it was by accident that this opportunity came to me. It was divine delivery just as you are a divine delivery into my life. The pen is a little part of you that I get to keep with me – even so very far away.

And now, when I am worried about the job ahead, writing with this pen, your pen, makes things a little better.

You were so reassuring and affirming at the jazz club, on our walk, on my porch before you left. I could use your words now. If only you could whisper in my ear tonight.

Until I can actually hear your voice,

Shane


	3. Chapter 3: Keep Dancing

Dear kind readers, I found this letter very difficult to write for several reasons. I wasn't certain that Shane meant that she was afraid that she was literally going to die. Between the fact that Steve told her to bring her passport, the look of the cyber outpost, and the events in one scene in particular, one could conclude that they were being bombed or that bombing was taking place nearby. However, the Chinese take-out boxes threw me. Was her statement in the final scene of HG to be taken literally? I'm going to write as if it was meant literally but I'm not sure.

March 16

It is late. I couldn't sleep. I think of you every day but I was going to wait until Sunday to write you. In my mind, it was going to be our day. But right now, I'm not sure Sunday will come. While we have exchanged many true words, good words, we have many words yet to say.

The region we are in has become unstable. Steve keeps reassuring me that everything will be fine - that we are safe. I just don't feel safe. All I feel is fear - fear that I won't get to come home to you. You have given me every reason to want to come home - the hope of a second date, a third date - of perfecting our dance. Surely, we haven't begun this dance for it to end like this. Have we?

The events of the past few days have taken me back to the afternoon we spent in the bank vault. I was so afraid. I think you knew that rush of emotion from me wasn't about the fate of Katherine and Jonathan. You just got up from your chair, came to me, held me in your arms, and told me that it was ok. You didn't make me feel foolish. You made me feel safe. You were so strong and so…tender. I asked you to pray and you told me that you already had. Oh Oliver, please be praying now.

As much as I could use your strength, the security of your arms, I am glad that you aren't here. I couldn't bare it if anything happened to you. This is why I must write you tonight. Some words cannot go unsaid. You must hear these words - If anything happens to me and I do not get to see Sunday come, you must not freeze again like a snowman left standing in the cold. You are the best man that I have ever known. You must go on dancing.

You are forever in my heart,

Shane


	4. Chapter 4: Surviving to Return

This is the fifth letter referenced in Higher Ground. I wrote from the perspective that Shane still thinks that she will get to come home after serving a few weeks. I hope to continue writing this letter series. One letter will be her realizing that she isn't returning soon.

March 26

Dear Oliver,

I waited ten days to write again. My last two letters were written from a position of worry and fear. If Sunday had not come, I could not leave a legacy of fear. NO MORE. After I finished writing you last, I got back in bed and began praying, I fell asleep praying. Falling asleep while praying beats staying awake afraid. I hope God doesn't mind. I woke the next morning, determined to find a way to survive it all so that I can come back to the DLO.

When I woke on Friday after writing my last letter, I ate breakfast with a woman that works in an area behind me. I had noticed her before. One thing that stood out about her was that she never seemed afraid or flustered. I discovered that she is a woman of deep faith. You would like her. I hate to admit this, but she reminds me of Dale.

We eat at least one meal together every day. We aren't on the same team. We don't always work the same shift. Sometimes we eat lunch together; sometimes it is dinner. But so far we haven't missed a day. She tells me all about her family and I tell her about mine – my DLO family. I believe you would say that she is a God-sent friend, delivered just in time.

I also have developed an exercise routine. This isn't exactly a place you can go for a run. I work out in my room. It helps me to feel - normal.

When my work seems too big for me, the challenge too enormous, I imagine you standing beside me, encouraging me. You tell me that I'm amazing at least twice a day.

I also take a few minutes every day to search for Hattie. I am determined to find her. I know that you will find Gabe. Looking for her helps me feel closer to you. If the two of them aren't already together, you and I can work to reunite them when I return. I miss working together.

I am going to survive this, and we will work together again.

Everything will be exactly as it was before I left. I am going to walk through those squeaky, double doors of the DLO, put my bag on my desk, and take off my coat. You will walk over to help me.

I will say, "Good morning, Oliver."

You will reply, "Good morning Ms. McInerny." (Because it is more important than ever that we maintain professionalism at work.)

You will glance around the DLO, and seeing no one, you will steal a kiss. Yes, Oliver O'Toole, you will kiss me in the DLO. Maybe a quick kiss? Just a little peck on check? Well a girl can dream.

Then Norman and Rita will come in together, pushing an entire cart of lost letters. Rita will rattle off data related to some partial postal code or stamp on some lost letter. Norman will tell us how one his many cousins can help us solve our latest mystery.

We will all go to the Mailbox Grille for lunch. Joe will meet us. He will hug me and tell me how glad he is that I am back.

Until this happens, every morning I will keep the faith and finish the course.

The calendar tells me that spring began last week in Denver. You once sang "when it's springtime in the Rockies, I'll be coming home to you." Well, it's springtime and I can't wait to come home to you.

Your sweetheart (I hope),

Shane


	5. Chapter 5: Coming Home

March 31

Dear Oliver,

I have only a few minutes before I return to work but I couldn't wait to write. I just left a meeting in which I overheard Steve mention that several people would be flying out the end of next week. I think one of them will be me. I have already been here four weeks.

I'm coming home! Oh dear, I better find Hattie this week.

I CAN'T WAIT,

Shane


	6. Chapter 6: April Fool

April 2

Dear Oliver,

Yesterday was April Fool's Day. Apparently I am the fool. Steve called me into his office. He started by telling me what an excellent job that I was doing and how important the work is. He said that what we are doing is world changing. He went on for about 30 minutes. He can be very affirming and convincing when he wants to be. Then he said, "We are going to need you to stay longer. The crisis isn't fully resolved." I asked how much longer. He said I needed to stay at least another six weeks. He reassured me that he wouldn't keep me one day longer than necessary.

I said, "thank you," as if he had done me a favor. Then I just stood and started to leave. I was stunned. He followed me into the hallway and offered to join me for dinner. I declined. He persisted. He said something about me not eating alone. He doesn't understand. If I'm not with you, I am alone.

Instead of going to dinner I returned to my room. I wasn't hungry. I wanted to write to you. It seems to be as close to you as I can get right now. When I left Denver, I assumed that I would be home by the first of April. Assume nothing.

Missing you terribly,

Shane

P.S. On my way to my room I saw the woman with whom I have become friends. She is flying out tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7: Irreplacible

April 9

Dear Oliver,

The reality of staying here another 6 – 8 weeks has hit me. As soon as I arrived I could tell it would be more than two or three weeks - but ten weeks, twelve weeks. I'm trying to press on – to do the right thing. As long as I've known you, you always seem to do the right thing – even when it is hard. Staying here may be doing the right thing. It is certainly the hard thing to do.

I wonder how things are going at the DLO? I know that three of you must be busy. I wonder if they sent a temporary replacement for me? Please note the use of the word temporary.

I once said that I knew that you would have no trouble replacing me. It was one of times I quit, in case you have forgotten. To be specific, it was the time that you were almost dispatched with your favorite letter opener. These are the events that led to my quitting that time. I never really told you. Somehow I think you knew. Holly's sudden return from Paris and my part in that return had already created quite a stir. Caitlyn and Joey had invited us all to the comedy club that night. I had gone with Rita and Norman. I heard Caitlyn and Joey say that a funny thing happened on the way to their divorce, they fell back in love. I thought of you and Holly. The reality that the two of you could fall back in love hit me pretty hard. I was torn. I knew how seriously you took your marriage. I knew that I wanted only the best for you. I left the club and was walking back to the DLO when I walked past the Mailbox Grille. There you were with Holly. I saw you dancing with our steps. I saw you kiss her. I want you to know that if had you reconciled with Holly, I would have never attempted to interfere. But if you had reconciled, I couldn't bear to watch you together either. Somewhere between a coffee cart and a porch swing, you became irreplaceable to me. That's why I quit that night.

On our walk back from E Phlat, you asked about why I stayed. You are the reason that I stayed at the DLO. You are the reason that I want to return.

This week I will talk to Steve to see if there is a way to let you know that my return is delayed.

Hopefully irreplaceable to you,

Shane


	8. Chapter 8: Questions

Thursday, April 13

Dear Oliver,

Today didn't go well.

I didn't get much sleep last night. I have been very troubled by my extended stay. I decided to go by Steve's office. I admit that my disposition wasn't pleasant. First I asked if there was any way that you could be informed that my return was delayed. I wanted you to know that I was all right and would be returning as soon as possible. He said no. I let Steve know that I wanted to be released as soon as possible. I told him that I was sure that the DLO needed me. He seemed indignant and assured me that they would not keep me one day more than necessary. I think I've heard that before. Then the argument started.

He asked if I was "pining away for a dead letter office or the guy who worked there." It was a dig.

He didn't stop. He said that maybe I should ask myself whether my returning to Denver actually mattered to the people at the dead letter office.

I said, "You mean Oliver."

He said, "You bet I do."

He said that if you really wanted me back, that you could have called Washington at least one time to see if there was any information concerning me. He said as he remembered it, you encouraged me to leave. He said that if my work in Denver was so important then why did you so readily let me go. He said that apparently the DLO and you could manage without me.

Then he went for the heart.

He asked if I had any real reason to believe that you cared for me, were in love with me. He asked me why you didn't take me in your arms when we said goodbye and kiss me like a man saying goodbye to the woman he loved.

I told him that he was way out of line, that he was never to speak of you like that again, and stormed out of his office.

An hour later Steve came to find me and apologized. He said that he was out of line and that he had no right to say those things. He said the stress of the moment was getting to us all and that he was under enormous pressure from the top brass. He told me that he was terribly sorry and asked me to forgive him. He said that hoped to make it up to me. He said that he really needed me, that the operation needed me. He said that he couldn't afford for me to leave yet.

Forgiveness, that is the right thing to do. But Oliver, his words hurt. It hurt because I wasn't certain of the answers. I began to wonder about, about us. On the one hand, I'm sure that out of respect for me, you wouldn't interfere in my making my own decisions. On the other hand, as another letter writer once asked, why did you let me go?

I began to question why we can't successfully complete one date.

The kiss, that brief kiss, on steps at the jazz club meant the world to me. What did it mean to you?

You are at home, surrounded by people who love you. You work with Norman and Rita, two people who you cherish. You have a real chance to be with your dad. Do you even miss me?

You have your church. Are you enjoying choir practice – with Dale?

Do you resent the fact that I left? Do you trust me to return?

Will we ever share the letters that I have written? Or will you simply ask me to return your pen?

No Oliver, today didn't go well.

Shane


	9. Chapter 9: Resurrection of Hope

Easter Sunday, April 16

Dear Oliver,

Friday I was having coffee in the cafeteria when I bumped into the chaplain, literally bumped into the chaplain. My coffee became a new camouflage for his fatigues. I apologized profusely. He laughingly said that was fine and that I could come to the Easter service and hear his sermon as my penance. I had no intentions of going. However, I woke early, couldn't go back to sleep, and just decided to go.

Last week was difficult. I lost sleep, worried about having to stay longer than anticipated, engaged in an ugly argument with Steve, and wrote a painful letter full of doubt about whether you even missed me.

I took my doubts and my worries and went to the Easter service. In the service I heard about another doubter named Thomas. The chaplain read, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe."

I know that the story was about a far greater belief but I thought about how I can't see you right now. There are things about our relationship, and I do use that word cautiously, that we have yet to see. If I am fully honest, in some of my letters I have been rather presumptuous. Perhaps, I presume too much. Yet there are certain things in which I have decided to believe. I have chosen to believe.

I choose to believe in the big things – in the resurrection of life, of hope, of love. I choose to believe in miracles. I also choose to believe in you. I hope that you choose to believe in me.

I mentioned that last week, after an argument with Steve, I wrote a letter expressing my doubts about you even missing me.. You may call it an act of faith, or an act of repentance, but I shredded that letter. I chose to let go of doubt and chose to finish this course with hope.

With hope, and faith, and love,

Shane


	10. Chapter 10: Discoveries

Sunday, April 23

Dear Oliver,

I made two important discoveries this week – Hattie, and the origin of a quote that is very familiar to us.

I found Hattie and I think that she is alive. An A.T. Hatfield was trapped in the Super Dome for three days and then evacuated to Houston. That's probably why she dropped off the roles in Louisiana. It seems she started her business over again in Austin. I have a street address. As soon as I get home, perhaps we could make a trip to Austin to locate her – if you haven't already found that she and Gabe are together.

My second discovery came during the worship service this morning. It was in the text for the sermon by Chaplain I. Spill Coffee. The service itself is brief and informal. One hymn is sung and the chaplain offers a message. Of course, there is prayer. Today the chaplain read Ecclesiastes 4: 9 – 12.

I have thought about the passage all afternoon. He began with "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor." We once agreed that we are very good at what we do. We deliver. One could say that we have enjoyed a remarkable return on our labor. I began to reflect on those returns and found myself smiling at thought of our adventures. I decided to write them down – to make a list. I will keep the list beside my bed. Especially while so far apart, it may be good to think on these things.

When I do think on these things, I cannot help but notice how much was reunited, restored, reconciled – how much of that which was lost was found.

Which brings me to my second discovery – the origin of a very familiar sentence. At the end of the passage the chaplain read, "A cord of three stands is not easily broken." I thought, "wait, that's from the letters of Catherine and Jonathan." That is where I first heard that quote. That is where I first asked you to pray.

I didn't know that those words came from the Bible. You probably did. Remember how that verse was followed by "two hearts joined by a greater one can withstand anything." Catherine and Jonathan's love withstood the tests of time, distance, and even the shadow of death. Gabe and Hattie will withstand the hurricane that swept them apart. We will withstand this test too. Because, two hearts joined by a greater one can withstand anything.

Withstanding by hope and faith,

Shane

P.S. Here are a few of the results of our divine deliveries: an innocent man was freed from jail; a little boy was saved from mobsters and reunited with his beloved grandmother; a girl's life was saved who needed a transplant and a husband's view of his marriage restored; a treasure box and a painting were returned to their rightful owners, both filled with love that would pass from generation to generation; a student was reunited with her hero/teacher and that hero's life reclaimed; two estranged sisters reconciled; twin brothers found each other and their mother's sacrifice was returned to her; a lost memory was reclaimed and young love was given a chance; two people who loved each other were allowed to become husband and wife.


	11. Chapter 11: My Birthday

Kind Readers, In this letter there is a sentence that is a nod to An Affair to Remember. If you have seen the movie, I'm sure will you will notice.

April 30

Today was my birthday. My team threw a party for me, complete with a cake.

In the interest of full disclosure, Steve bought me a birthday present. He said that he was trying to make up for my having to stay longer than expected. I don't know what the gift was. I didn't accept it. It was in a small, rectangular, turquoise box with a white ribbon. How he acquired that from here I'll never know. That seemed an inappropriate package to offer an employee. I told him that I didn't think that you would like it; and if you didn't like it, then I wouldn't either. I didn't meant to offend him, but I wanted to be perfectly clear. You might say – return to sender.

To the rest of the team I smiled and expressed all the appropriate words of appreciation. But in my heart, I ached. My mind went back to another party – Happy Birthday Shan – a solar powered abacus – a porch swing. As soon as I could gracefully bow out, I returned to my room to write you.

I would give anything to celebrate my birthday with you. You wouldn't have to buy me a present. I don't need a cake – not even with a good curd. I don't need Montaldo's. If I could sit on the porch with your arm around me, I would be perfectly content.

Ready to celebrate with you,

Shane


	12. Chapter 12: Train Whistles

Sunday, May 7

Dear Oliver,

Good news, I think. It seems that soon I won't need my passport. Steve verified that I will leave here within the next ten days. I consider that a hopeful sign. My team has been leaving one by one for the past three days. I understand another person leaves tomorrow. He said he couldn't shut down the operation yet. I don't know what that means exactly. I'm not ready to ask. I'm hoping that as soon as I don't need a passport, that I won't be needed at all.

I remember that Jonathan wrote to Catherine that he would lie awake at night, hear trains whistle and think of them headed west to where she was. There are no train whistles here. There is the sound of helicopters taking off – of someone leaving.

I think of myself leaving, heading west, to the Rockies, to Denver, to you. I think of the joy of working beside you – of simple things – of Yoohoo's and smoothies – of Rita adjusting her glasses with the fingers of her right hand – of the many startled expressions of Norman – of the sound of a dead letter shooting up the tube to its rightful recipient. I think of you calling me Ms. McInerny in the day and Shane in the evening. You have no idea how often I think of you.

With hope and faith that our time apart is about to end,

Shane


	13. Chapter 13: In the Wee Small Hours

Friday, May 12

According to the clock, it's 3:15 in the morning, daylight saving time, my body feels like it is still in another time zone. Yes, I am in this time zone. I am back on American soil!

Wednesday morning Steve told me to be on standby, that we were leaving on the next available plane. After a very long flight we landed in Dover. A jeep drove us to the other side of the base to catch a helicopter to Langley. When we stepped off the plane the night was so beautiful. The sky was clear and full of stars. I'm grateful to be home, almost home.

Several career military were traveling with us. Everywhere I've been for the past 10 weeks, I've been surrounded by military, getting a closer look at the price they pay for the life we enjoy.

Take a letter for instance. I can write a letter, to whomever I choose, say whatever I want, mail it, and only the intended recipient is allowed to open that letter. We even have laws to protect the confidentiality and privacy of that letter should it be lost. The people that I've been serving beside, they pay a big price; their families pay a big price, for things we too often take for granted like the right to send a letter.

When we were on the helicopter, I thought about the rescue of Lieutenant Amidon –the courage it took to attempt that rescue, the courage it took for her to survive. I thought about being with you, sitting on the steps, sharing a sandwich, waiting and hoping for word of her rescue. You draped your coat around my shoulders. You were already my hero. Yes, my heart skipped a beat or two that night.

Funny, as soon as we got back in the States, I wanted so badly to slip away, and find a phone to call you. But I think about the men and women who do the right thing – the hard thing – the sacrificial thing, not just for 10 weeks, but some for an entire career. Surely, I can follow the rules for just a few more days.

Until I can be beside you again,

Shane


	14. Chapter 14: Get Off the Plane

Wednesday, May 17

Dear Oliver,

The operation is still on going. When I wrote you in the wee small hours of the morning last Friday, I thought I might be in Denver by the end of this week. I thought that when I completed the myriad filings that I would be finished. However, like winter in Denver, it just doesn't seem to end.

Yesterday, as I was leaving the building, I saw an officer step off the elevator into the lobby. Apparently, his wife and children were waiting for him. The children squealed "daddy" and ran to him as soon as they saw him. It was quite the reunion. My thoughts went to the people still in that outpost. Some have been there 15 months. If I am needed, I should stay. But the struggle between longing and loyalty is real. The loneliness takes a toll.

Is my absence taking a toll on you? Are you all right? I worry that you think I've abandoned you. I have been particularly concerned as of late. I had the strangest dream. It haunts me.

I dreamed the other night that you were at an airport, waiting for me. It was one of those dreams that you know it is an airport but you don't know why. It wasn't an airport that I had ever seen. You were standing at this wall of windows, looking out at the runway. You looked anxious and sad. You were holding a bouquet of flowers, wrapped in white paper. People were disembarking this huge plane by climbing down metal stairs. I could see everything as if from far above. I kept looking for myself to get off the plane.

I kept thinking, "Oliver is waiting for me. Get off the plane."

There were crowds of people – more than could possibly be on one plane - leaving the plane, climbing down the stairs. The first person I recognized was Hazel. She had her mailbag. I thought, "What is she doing with her mailbag on a plane? This isn't her route."

Then I spotted Rita among the masses leaving the plane. I tried to call to her but she didn't hear me. In my mind, she was meeting Norman. But I didn't see Norman. In the dream, this all seemed logical.

Then I saw Holly get off the plane. I thought to myself, "You are in Paris."

Then I recognized Dale getting off the plane. I thought, "She is supposed to be at choir practice." As I said, in my dream this all seemed to make perfect sense.

All the while, I could see you, standing at the huge glass wall, holding those flowers, looking at the runway, waiting for me, looking worried and alone.

Finally, no one got off the plane. The stairs were empty. I kept thinking, "I've got to get off this plane." I started shouting over and over again, "Get off the plane, get off the plane."

Then the door to plane closed with me still inside. I woke crying.

Help me Mr. O'Toole. I need something profound.

I need to get off this plane.

I need you.

When I step into hallways or go outside, I catch myself looking for you, as if you will magically appear. In my mind, you would smile and hold out your arms for me when you see me. I would know that you had come for me. I would run to you. I would not look back.

Trying to hang on,

Shane


	15. Chapter 15: The Road Ends Where You Are

Sunday, May 21

Dear Oliver

This week I continued fulfilling my responsibilities, completing more reports, and training others to do what I've been doing. Top officials have approached me informally about a permanent appointment. I made it clear that I have no intention of staying. Steve keeps saying that I will be released as soon as possible.

Today I was in meeting in which I was required to sign more confidentiality agreements. I took your pen out of my bag to sign the papers. An older, distinguished gentleman saw the pen. Admiring the pen he said, "Excuse me, do you know what you have there?"

I said, "Oh yes, yes. I definitely do."

I know what I have. I know what I miss.

I'm increasingly worried about you. I've been gone for almost 3 months. I want to tell you to not lose heart. I want to tell you that each day that passes is one day sooner that I will be home.

As I have mentioned previously, I often think of the letters we shared the afternoon we were locked in the bank vault – the letters Jonathan and Catherine wrote to each other. Perhaps it is because they were separated by the miles, as we are. Perhaps it is because they had shared only one date, only one kiss, as we have. Perhaps it is because the words they shared express what I have felt for you for so very long.

Sometimes, I fear that we have left too many words unspoken. Perhaps I presume too much. Perhaps what I see in your eyes isn't your feelings for me but only the reflection of what I feel for you.

At the risk of seeming foolish, of being too bold, there are things I must tell you. Even as I write these words, I don't know if I will have the courage to actually give you this letter – or any of these letters when I return.

I decided to use the words we shared in a bank vault one afternoon that now seems so long ago. Oliver, something tells me against all common sense that I have met the one that I have been waiting for all my life. You are the best person that I have ever known. When you came for me on our first date and told me that I looked beautiful, in that moment you made me feel so. When you kissed me, I was truly happy for the first time. They were not the first lips that I have ever kissed, but until we meet again, they will be the last.

Shane

Epilogue:

This was to be the last letter that Shane wrote to Oliver before she returned to Denver. That week, Oliver came to Langley and reclaimed his pen.

Their reunion wasn't as she had envisioned. His eyes did not light when he saw her. His arms did not open to receive her. Instead, his eyes were filled with sadness, hurt, anger and bewilderment. His arms held back in reserve.

Her heals did not click on the tile floor as she ran to meet him. Her arms weren't thrown around his neck as he whispered to her that "it's ok" as he had so long ago in that bank vault.

The coolness of their encounter felt like an indictment to Shane. He seemed wounded. If she reached for him, he would surely bite. She held herself together and her hopes and her longing at bay.

But he had come and deep down she knew that he had come for her. In all the many months that his wife had been in Paris, he had never gone after her. After three months he had flown to D.C. for Shane. That had to mean something.

Ultimately, he did help her get off that plane. He did saying something profound: "I can't lie to you. I'm just wondering if Steve can."

Shane learned the truth. And the truth set her free – free to return.


End file.
